


we've come before you, outnumbered and unafraid

by unenthusiasticcavalry



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Characters Play Dungeons & Dragons, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Gen, and using it as a way for them to work through their issues?, couldn't be me, the kepcobi is literally just everyone roasting them about it, they're all nerds, using dnd as an extended metaphor for the series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24182980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unenthusiasticcavalry/pseuds/unenthusiasticcavalry
Summary: crew morale is extremely important to a mission. and seven and a half light years away from earth, organic boosting of that morale is... difficult to come by. thus, attendance at crew bonding nights have become non-negotiable, and tonight is no different. what is different is the choice of activity for tonight: dungeons and dragons. so, what happens when you get the crews of the uss hephaestus and urania together for a mandatory one-shot game night? probably nothing good. or maybe it'll be fun? who's to say?it's time to roll initiative!
Relationships: Alexander Hilbert & Isabel Lovelace, Daniel Jacobi & Alana Maxwell, Daniel Jacobi/Warren Kepler, Doug Eiffel & Alana Maxwell, Doug Eiffel & Hera & Renée Minkowski, Hera & Alana Maxwell, Isabel Lovelace & Renée Minkowski, Warren Kepler & Isabel Lovelace
Comments: 53
Kudos: 61





	1. no wrong way to play

“Alright, so, you’re really sure that I  _ have _ to be here?” Jacobi asked, surveying the mess of papers, dice, and makeshift minis in front of him.

Maxwell elbowed him. “Hey. Yes. It’s crew bonding. And besides, Lovelace has worked really hard on tonight’s session for us, haven’t you?”

“Hm?” Lovelace hummed, looking up from her notes and seeming a bit startled. “I mean, yeah? It’s been a  _ loooong _ time since I did any of this though, so-”

“See?” said Maxwell, elbowing Jacobi again. “She worked very hard, and so we should all play. To respect that.”

“Okay, sure. But  _ I _ specifically have to be here? Kepler’s on my ass-”

“Gross,” Lovelace murmured.

“Not what I meant. All I’m saying is, with all due respect,  _ Captain _ , I might make myself more useful elsewhere.”

“I mean, you’re not exactly hurting my feelings, Jacobi. If you don’t want to play that’s fine by me,” she said, turning her attention back to her notes.

“Oh, come  _ on _ , Jacobi. You’d rather be doing work than playing  _ Dungeons and Dragons _ ? Are you crazy?” Eiffel piped in.

“Well, I don’t even know how to play!” he groaned.

“It’s simple. You would know that if you would have played with me when I started bugging you about it  _ years ago _ ,” said Maxwell. “There’s no right or wrong way to play, really. You just make decisions for your character, act it out a little bit, and roll the dice to see if you’re able to do what you want, or if you die a miserable, yet heroic, death.”

“Sounds fun,” Jacobi deadpanned. 

“Oh, ye of little faith,” she replied flatly.

“Oh, whatever, Oscar the Grouch,” said Eiffel. “You’re just naive to the magic of tabletop RPGs. It’ll grow on you. What’s your character like, Padawan?”

Jacobi squinted at his character sheet. “Uh… tiefling warlock.”

“Okay, edgelord,” Lovelace muttered.

“It sounded cool, okay? I thought you guys said there was no right or wrong way-”

“Only joking. It is cool.”

“Basic, but cool,” Maxwell teased.

Jacobi frowned. “Okay. So, yours is any better, then?”

Maxwell pulled her character sheet out with a flourish. “She is, thank you for asking.” She cleared her throat and began to read. “Eliphyra Baldove, half-elven wizard. The product of a  _ torrid _ love affair between a noble human academic and an elven high priestess of Labelas Enoreth, Lifegiver and Lord of the Continuum, Eliphyra was destined for an odd life from her mere conception-”

The entrance to the comms room slid open with a metallic thud, interrupting Maxwell’s theatrics and startling Eiffel out of the state of rapt attention he had been giving her. All eyes landed on Minkowski sliding through the entrance, character sheet in hand and Hilbert in tow. She looked at them quizzically in the awkward silence.

“Uh, hello, everyone? Sorry we’re late. Am I interrupting something, or-”

“Only Maxwell’s crazed ramblings,” Jacobi quipped.

“Hey!” she cried in response

Lovelace laughed. “No, Minkowski, you’re all good. Come on in.”

She sighed and made her way to the table. “I meant to be on time, but  _ someone _ wasn’t in his lab or the observation deck like his schedule might have indicated. I had to track him all the way down to  _ engineering _ of all places-”

“This is entirely pointless,” Hilbert grumbled from the entranceway. “Time would be much better spent on individual mission tasks then-” 

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Jacobi exclaimed.

“Then playing game for  _ children _ ,” Hilbert finished.

“Uh, excuse me?” Maxwell fumed. “D&D is not for children! It is a highly sophisticated tabletop role-playing game that is an exercise in probability and collaborative storytelling.”

“I reiterate,  _ sounds fun _ ,” Jacobi interrupted.

“Jacobi. I cannot believe you are taking his side over mine just because you’re afraid that you’ll be bad at it.”

“I’m not going to be bad at it! You said there’s not even a wrong way to play, so how could I be bad at it? Why does everyone think I’m going to be bad at it?”

“Because you’re  _ proooobably _ going to be bad at it,” came Hera’s clipped, but chipper response from the speakers.

Eiffel looked up to the nearest speaker with a grin. “Glad you could join us, darlin’!”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Officer Eiffel.”

He cast a joking glare towards Jacobi. “Glad  _ someone’s _ an enthusiastic new player.”

“Ohhh, I wouldn’t exactly say new. At least not in the same way as this one,” Maxwell said, pointing at Jacobi, “the unspoiled D&D virgin.”

He cringed. “Okay,  _ that’s _ gross, Alana. And cult-y.”

“All I’m saying is that Hera put a lot of work into having the rules memorized, and helping to figure out all of the mechanics of your characters for those of you who were too lazy to do it for yourselves.”

“Happy to help,” said Hera, sweetly as always.

Minkowski glared at Hilbert, who still hadn’t moved from the entrance. “Get your ass in here.”

He grumbled something or other about careless neglect of actual work as he floated towards the table.

It didn’t take long for everyone to get situated. Some, frankly clever, preparations on Eiffel’s part had led to the construction of makeshift magnetic minis and paperweights to keep the tabletop supplies, well, on top of the table. It looked like some of the elements of the map were made out of repurposed Funzo pieces. Some were even just Eiffel’s many action figures duct taped to a fridge magnet. Either way, it worked for their purposes. This was only supposed to be a one-shot, after all. 

What had started as Eiffel’s joke when asked about ideas for the crew morale nights was immediately pounced upon by Maxwell, who professed the game as being one of her only hobbies. Turns out Lovelace played in her late teens, as had Minkowski. So, before they knew it, Lovelace agreed to prepare a little adventure for the crew to go on, and Maxwell hadn’t stopped talking about it since.

She whipped out an extremely large cinch bag with fantastical embroidery on it, and attempted to slam it down on the table. She watched sadly as it collided with the table with a soft bump and then began to slowly float upwards.

“Less impressive than I had hoped,” she murmured.

Jacobi stared at the bag, eyes wide. “Okay,  _ what _ is that?”

“It’s all my dice!”

“What? How big are your dice that you needed a bag for them the size of Young’s Lexus?”

She rustled through the bag and grabbed a fistful of dice. “Nope! It’s about the sheer quantity-”

“Of Pretty. Math. Rocks,” Eiffel interrupted. “Godspeed, Doctor.”

Jacobi’s face fell into a look of what could almost be called concern as he realized just how many dice were in the bag. “Maxwell. You need help. This is an addiction.”

“If hoarding dice is wrong, I don’t want to be right,” she replied breezily.

Eiffel reached across the table for the bag with curiosity. Or at least he tried to. Maxwell snatched his wrist with a painfully tight grip before he could get anywhere close enough to touch it.

“Nope. No one touches my dice without my say-so. Got it?”

“Ow. Yep. Ow. Got it,” Eiffel squeaked out. She let go of him and reached for the bag, pulling it close to her chest affectionately with a smile.

“Alllll mine.”

“That’s fine! I’ve got my own!” Eiffel produced a bag, slightly smaller than Maxwell’s, and began handing sets to Lovelace, Hilbert and Minkowski in turn. 

Minkowski raised an eyebrow. “Eiffel. How did- how did you get that on the ship? Where have you been keeping that?”

“A good magician never reveals his tricks, Commander. And besides, you’d be surprised what they’ll let you bring in your personal cargo as long as said cargo doesn’t threaten to set the ship’s air supply on fire. Supposedly.” 

“ _ Supposedly _ ? Not  _ supposedly _ , it did! You lit the air supply on fire!”

“And we didn’t die! So it’s fine!”

Jacobi laughed. “The bar for you guys is so low it is literally on the ground.”

“We know, thanks,” Minkowski replied flatly.

There was a beat of silence as that exchange settled with everyone. Eiffel, hoping to break the tension and get the ball rolling, surveyed the table, rubbing his hands together. “So! What are we waiting for? Let’s get this party started!”

“We’re still waiting on one more, Eiffel,” Jacobi chided.

“What?” He looked around the table, and realized that there was only one person missing. “No way. Kepler? Isn’t he like, allergic to fun or something?”

Jacobi’s eyes widened. “Eiffel-”

“No, I don’t buy it. There’s no way that Colonel Mustard is taking time away from being all Evil John McClane to come and play D&D with us.”

“Eiffel, I-”

“You have to be kidding. Look, it’s nothing personal or whatever, but won’t he just kinda wreck the whole thing?” 

It was dead silent as the entire table stared at Eiffel. No, not at him. Just behind him. Minkowski slowly shook her head ‘no’. Oh god. 

“He’s right behind me, isn’t he?”

“Good to see you too, Officer Eiffel,” Kepler proclaimed, slapping him on the back and making Eiffel jump despite him guessing he was there anyways.

“What?! That’s just… creepy! How did you- we  _ heard _ when those two-”

Minkowski glared at him “I left the door open Eiffel.”

“Ever so kind of you, Lieutenant. Sorry to keep y’all waiting. Had some business to finish up with.” Kepler smiled slightly and sidled up to the table next to Eiffel, who was still catching his breath from the scare.

“Why… are you here?” was all he could manage.

“Crew morale is very important to the integrity and execution of a mission, wouldn’t you say, Officer Eiffel?”

“I mean, yeah?”

“And this event is intended to boost crew morale, correct?”

“That’s the plan?”

“And have I shown myself to care deeply about the integrity and execution of this mission?”

“Uh, yeah. Definitely. That one you definitely have, yeah.”

“Then, I’m here.”

“And so, this is actually tonight’s priority?” asked Jacobi.

“Yes.”

“But-”

“No buts, Mr. Jacobi. I’m sure it will be a highly enjoyable time.”

“Nice try,” Maxwell whispered.

Jacobi sighed loudly, and the room fell silent for a moment, as everyone tried to figure out what came next. It was odd enough for conversation to be coming this easily between the Urania and Hephaestus crews, but it was hard to say how long that would last, especially with tensions running higher every day. The mix of player experience at the table didn’t exactly overlap with who actually liked or trusted each other. Everyone seemed to know that in all likelihood, it would be a gong show. 

Hera was the one to break the silence. “Wellll, Captain Lovelace? Are you ready to start us off?”

All eyes fell on Isabel. This was a bad idea, and she knew it. It had been years since she’d done this, and she knew how intense trivial activities could get with this bunch. But goddammit, Lovelace had spent too much of her last off rotation remembering how to play this stupid game and planning this stupid adventure. So they were going to sit there and play it, if they liked it or not. 

“Yes, Hera. I am.” She cleared her throat, and if you were paying attention, you could notice Hera dim the lights of the comms room just slightly enough for it to be considered atmospheric. She dropped her voice slightly for dramatic effect, and made eye contact with each of her players in turn, as she began: “At the beginning of our story, like all good adventuring stories, you all find yourselves in a tavern. The aroma of fresh bread and mead wafts through the air, meeting your nose and evoking a sense of comfort and shelter from the cold winter winds that blow just outside of the aging door. It’s not particularly crowded, nor is it particularly rowdy. The patrons mostly seem to be villagers, congregating in the warm light of the tavern after a hard day of work and catching up on the latest gossip. The only outsiders here appear to be you seven, each having found yourselves an area of mostly unnoticed solitude throughout the stools and tables. All of you, save for one, that is, who is attempting to command the attention of the room to make his living. The sweet melodies of an unfamiliar, steam-powered instrument spring to life underneath his hands. In our modern times, we would have called this instrument some version of a keytar. He calls it his Magic Key-Axe of Righteousness. Eiffel, if you wouldn’t mind introducing your character.”


	2. time to get the ball rolling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> now that everyone's finally arrived for game night, the heroes of the hepheastus and urania begin their adventure and introduce themselves to one another. although roleplay may be a challenge for some of them, the experienced players and the dungeon master have enough tricks up their sleeve to get everyone in on the madness before the one-shot is through.
> 
> plus, the fantasy DMV, character voices, rolling dice in space, ballads of the homeland and the funzo spirit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILERS! From here on in there may be allusions and implied spoilers to the major and minor events of the later seasons as well as the series as a whole.
> 
> In other news, here's chapter 2! Hope you enjoy!

“Eiffel,” said Lovelace, “if you wouldn’t mind introducing your character.”

“My pleasure, Captain.” He inhaled deeply, and continued in an accent that could generously be called French. “He is… a halfling. Very fancy, very colourful robes. He has a rockin’ goatee. Very Tony Stark looking, it’s quite dashing. And he is in fact shredding on his Magic Key-Axe of Righteousness. This is the bard renowned throughout the land for his bravery and his sick keytar skills: Yenkin Joos.”

“I’m sorry…  _ what _ ?” Jacobi asked, as Maxwell wheezed with laughter beside him.

“What?”

“His name is  _ what? _ ”

“Yenkin Joos.”

“What the hell? That’s not a name, that’s a medical condition.”

“It is not medical condition,” Hilbert muttered.

Lovelace, Hera and even Minkowski were laughing at this point, and Maxwell was past the point of no return. Even Kepler looked like he might crack as Eiffel threw his hands up in the air.

“That’s his name! He’s a halfling!”

“ _ Yenkin Joos _ . That’s his name? That’s his god-given name? What kind of a game is this?”

“Yeah, like someone was holding their baby halfling in the arms and was like ‘my sweet, beautiful child. I shalt name you  _ Yenkin Joos _ ?’” Maxwell yelled between wheezes. 

“What is your problem with Yenkin Joos?” said Eiffel, although his tone betrayed amusement.

Lovelace sighed and looked over at Jacobi and Maxwell. “Are you two done?”

“Ohhh, not even close,” Jacobi replied. “Like, was he in school and the teacher was taking attendance and the teacher was like ‘ _ Yenkin Joos _ ?’ and he had to be like ‘here!’” 

Maxwell nearly fell away from the table laughing. “Yeah, like his friends have to be like ‘Hi  _ Yenkin _ , how are you?’”

“He goes to the fantasy DMV and has to give his name as  _ Yenkin Joos _ ? Like, that’s not a real name!”

“Well good thing this isn’t real life! It’s a game, and his name is Yenkin Joos!” Eiffel yelled.

“Alright!” Lovelace interrupted. “Alright. Everyone, Yenkin is objectively a hilarious name and we can crack jokes about it all night, but-

Maxwell took a deep breath to calm down. “Yeah. You’re right. Okay. Please continue.”

“Thank you. So, as Yenkin-”

Maxwell snickered. “I’m sorry. It’s just-”

“ _ As Yenkin finishes his song-”  _ Lovelace continued, just to stop the chaos from erupting once more, “the barkeep looks at you two, Jacobi and Maxwell. Mind introducing and describing yourselves?”

Maxwell took a second to steady herself, and fell into character with a smile. “Eliphyra Baldove,” she said, in a soft Irish accent, “pleased to make your acquaintance. She has long, blonde hair that is intricately braided down her back, with a few loose curls falling around her face. Her eyes are a piercing teal, and she’s wearing well-made robes in yellows and golds, with a messenger bag slung across her body and a components pouch fastened around her waist.”

“Awesome. Jacobi?”

“Uhhhh….. Sly? Sly Damris.”

“Jacobi. Character voice,” Maxwell chided.

“What?”

“You sound just like yourself.”

“Okay, and?”

“Do a character voice!”

“Uh, okay. Right, character voice, like, what?”

“Something that’s not you.”

“Oookay. This is weird and slightly terrifying but-” He cleared his throat and began, in a voice that was basically Jacobi But Deeper: “I’m Sly Damris.”

“That’s nothing. That still sounds like you.”

“Jesus, Maxwell. Okay uh-” This time he added on a Southern accent and an oddly familiar inflection as he tried again. “I’m Sly Damris.”

Kepler’s ears perked up, and he shot Jacobi a look. “Watch yourself.”

“Yep, you’re right Colonel. Knew that was a bad idea as soon as it came out of my mouth. Alright. Let’s try…  _ I’m Sly Damris _ .” It was stereotypically cockney, and he seemed pretty proud of himself. Maxwell nodded, and he continued. “Tiefling warlock in dark clothing, with a… septum piercing, an embroidered cloak and a… a holster for his tome. Yeah.”

“Okay. Great. Epliphyra and Sly,” said Lovelace, “the barkeep walks over, a tall human guy with his long hair up in a bun, and asks, ‘alright then, what can I get you?’ ” 

The barkeep spoke with an Australian accent and sounded familiar to Alexander Hilbert. He hoped it was a coincidence.

Lovelace did notice Hilbert shift uncomfortably when she introduced the barkeep, Helius. So, he  _ had _ noticed. Fairly quickly too. Well, good for him, because there was a lot more to come. She owed them all this at the very least.

Maxwell’s eagerness to roleplay was what broke up the odd looks exchanged by Lovelace and Hilbert. “Um, yes. Wine, if you have it?”

“Just mead,” said Jacobi. Maxwell beamed with pride. 

“Coming right up,” Lovelace replied in character. “Alright. Hera. Helius slides up to you next and asks what you would like. What does he see?”

“Oh, me! Okay, um, well, he sees a young elf woman. She’s got, um, green hair as well as green eyes that sort of glint in the light. She’s got silver freckles on her cheeks, and, um, she’s wearing a simple brown and white dress with a dark cloak over top. Her name is, um, Fayeth Elris. My sorcerer.”

“Alright, Fayeth. Awesome,” said Lovelace, making a quick note. She switched back over into the character voice of the barkeep. “‘And what can I get you?’”

“Oh! Oh, right, yes, um, sorry. I’ll, um, I’ll have… do you have any tea?”

“He looks at you strangely for a second, and goes ‘uh, sure! tea! no problem’. And he goes off to fetch you all your drinks.”

“Okaay,” said Hera. “I’ll just leave the money on the bar then? Because I, um, want to move closer to listen to Yenkin’s music, and then come back for my tea.”

“I mean, sure, if you want. You’d guess it’s probably a few copper, maybe three?”

“I’ll leave four as a tip?”

“Alright, nice! So you move closer to Yenkin-”

Maxwell snorted.

“Would you quit it?” Eiffel yelled.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Keep going, please. I’m sorry,” she stuttered.

“Okay! Eiffel. What song are you playing?” asked Lovelace.

“A classic ballad of my homeland. It’s known as  _ Brandy _ .”

“As in,  _ you’re a fine girl _ ?”

“ _ What a good wife you would be! _ Yep, that’d be the one, Capitan.” 

“Alright. Roll a performance check.”

“Oh, first roll of the game, let’s see it baby!” He took out one of his many d20s, and shook it madly. He was so caught up in the moment that the realization seemed to hit him just as he was about to make the roll:  _ you can’t roll dice without gravity _ . The piece of plastic floated out of his hand and collided weakly with the side of Hilbert’s face. “Oh. Didn’t think about that, did we?”

“No, we didn’t,” Maxwell added quietly.

“Okay, soooo… what now?”

Maxwell thought for a second. “Well, Hera could always just, like, roll for us. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Just generate a random number from 1-20?” she asked.

“Or whatever dice we need, yeah?”

“Sure, um, no problem! That should work. Let me just…” She paused, and a few glitches and fait whirs could be heard through the comms panel. “Yep! That should, um, that should do it! All set up.”

“Great, Hera, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. As for Officer Eiffel’s performance check, he rolled a… 13.” 

Eiffel scanned his character sheet. “Ok, so plus 5, because of my proficiency, so 18.”

“He can do math,” Jacobi muttered.

“Hey now. Uncalled for.”

Lovelace elected to ignore that little detour. “Okay, so with an 18… hell yeah. You’re pretty much shredding on that keytar. Fayeth, he is more than decent.”

“Hey, so, Lovelace?” Jacobi asked.

“Yeah?” 

“So the way this works is that we just get to decide anything we want to do, and roll for it?”

“Well, most things. Things that are possible, but, yeah, basically.”

“So, if I wanted to steal the money that Hera- er, Fayeth, left on the bar…”

“Hey!” Hera exclaimed.

“I mean, sure, if you want to. I’ll have you make a sleight of hand check, contested against Hera’s passive perception.”

Hera gave a huff before rolling for Jacobi. “Um, that’s… that’s an 11”

“Plus… hm, plus three, so that’s a 14”

“Okay!” said Lovelace. “Yeah, Hera, I’m guessing your passive perception is a-”

“12,” she replied flatly.

“Right, yeah. Sorry. But, Sly, you are able to slip the money off of the table without Fayeth noticing.”

“Hm. I think I actually like this game,” said Jacobi with a grin.

“Oh, look who’s having fun now,” Maxwell teased.

“What? Isn’t that what you guys wanted?”

“Yes! I’m proud of you, good job, and all of that.”

Minkowski looked down at her character sheet, and then at Jacobi, and then to the DM. “Um, Lovelace? My passive perception is a 15. Am I near enough to notice?”

She smirked. “Do you want to be?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Minkowski, you’re Bixora, right?”

“That’s right,” she replied.

“Great. Bixora, you sit at the bar with your charge, the young noblewoman that you have been a bodyguard for for the last few weeks. Suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you see this tiefling give a quick glance around, before pocketing the money that the green-haired women had left at the bar. What do you want to do?” 

“Well, first I tell my charge, Peseta, that I’ll be right back. Then, I walk up to him.”

“Oookay. As you approach, what do Eliphyra and Sly see?”

“They see a dragonborn woman with gold scales, wearing chain mail, with a greatsword holstered to her side. As well, she has a shield strapped to her back that has the symbol of a dragon’s head in profile, so, the symbol of Bahamut, right in the centre, indicating her as one of his paladins.”

“Commander, that’s bitchin’” Doug whispered.

“Thank you, Eiffel.”

“Agreed, Minkowski, that’s great,” said Isabel “Alright, you’ve approached Sly, what do you do next?”

Minkowski cleared her throat and added a husky timbre, as well as an air of slightly pompous authority to her character voice as she looked at Jacobi dead in the eye. “I think you’d better put that coin back where you found it.”

Jacobi smiled nervously as he realized that the ante had just been upped. “Uh, finders keepers?”

“I don’t think so. Put it back.”

“Why should I?”

“Because it doesn’t belong to you. She left it to pay for her drink. Put it back now.”

“Look, do you want to split it? I don’t want any trouble, but, I don’t know. It’s already gotten more comfortable in my pocket and I’d hate to remove it-”

Minkowski turned to Lovelace, breaking character for a second. “I grab his wrist,” she announced. 

Jacobi gulped. “Hey-”

She switched back into her character and stared at him. “Put it back.”

“Okay, okay, alright.” He sighed, and looked back towards Isabel. “I put the coins back on the table where she left them.”

“Thank you,” said Minkowski. “I turn and walk back to my seat.”

Lovelace laughed. “Sounds good. However, I’d actually say that you were loud enough to get the attention of most people in the tavern when you were shaking him down so... is there anything anyone would like to do? Hilbert?”

“No. Still unclear on the goal of this section of game. There is no clear objective,” he said.

“Oh, come on. Will you at least just tell us what you look like? Name, race, class? Just… give us the basics.”

He grunted. “Hm. Fine. Gnome druid. Rasrug Salbar. Short, he is gnome. Simple clothing, and dark hair. Happy?”

“Woah, curb you enthusiasm doc,” Eiffel deadpanned.

“Yeah, what happened to that Funzo spirit?” asked Maxwell.

“Different situation entirely,” he said. “Funzo had clear set of rules and objectives, and time spent playing Funzo was not wasted. It was only choice. Right now, this game is distraction from more important priorities.”

“Doctor,” said Kepler. “I think you’ll find that this game _ is _ tonight’s priority, as I had previously told Mr. Jacobi. I would recommend keeping yourself a tolerable presence for the night, for the sake of morale, of course. Understood?”

“Hm, yes,” he mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Yes, Colonel Kepler, sir.”

“Thank you, Doctor. Captain Lovelace, please continue.”

Isabel turned her gaze on Kepler with as much neutrality as she could muster as she searched for a way to keep the game going after that tense little spat. “Hey, Colonel, I’m just now realizing that I don’t think I’ve seen your character sheet. Mind if I take a look?”

“Oh, of course,” he said, handing it to her.

She looked it over for a second. “Gunslinger. Lawful… hm,  _ neutral _ . Okay, spy background… Is this… just  _ you _ ?” 

He laughed. “Captain. I’m not sure what you mean. This is a fantasy game, and he is a half-orc. He is certainly not me.”

“Okay, but… you know what? Never mind.” She squinted at the name scrawled across the character sheet. “Okay… _Vernon_ _Cain_. You’ve just witnessed Bixora talk Sly down, but at that moment, Helius slides over to you and asks what he can get you.”

Kepler stared at her with a sarcastic smirk plastered across his face. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“He’s the barkeep. He wants to know what you want to drink. You’re in a tavern.”

“I understand that, Captain, but I’m afraid that I, like the doctor, was under the impression that this was a combat game. The theatrics seem a bit-”

She chuckled with an edge in the way that only Lovelace could. “Theatrics? They’re not theatrics, this is a role-playing game.”

He raised an eyebrow at her tone. “So, I’m to have a conversation with this man, the barkeep, is that right?”

“Yep. Until combat starts. That’s the game.”

Kepler stared at her for a second, and Jacobi and Maxwell held their breath. Suddenly, though, he seemed to relax. “Very well, Captain,” he said. He shifted his posture only slightly to indicate a change of character, and continued with his own voice as he began to roleplay. “I’ll have what he’s having,” he said, gesturing at Jacobi.

“Alrighty,” she replied as the barkeep. 

Jacobi smirked. “Colonel. Character voice.”

“I’m fine, thank you, Mr. Jacobi,” he said sharply.

Lovelace winced, and then took stock of the table. Everyone had been introduced. It was time to get the ball rolling. “Alright. So, Helius comes back with the drinks for everyone that has ordered them, and for a moment you all feel really comfortable and content as you begin to nurse or chug the beverage of your choice. That peace doesn’t last long, though, because just as soon as you begin to relax into the atmosphere of the tavern once more, the door to the place swings open with a loud THUD,” she exclaimed.

“Oh crap, here we go,” Eiffel whispered with anticipation.

“You see a few things. The tavern is immediately flooded with like, an entourage of masked bandits and thugs, and there’s a few screams from the patrons and a protest from Helius as they begin to raid the booths really quickly. If you had time to take stock of what was going on, then you would have guessed that they were all looking for one thing in particular. But, you don’t have that kind of time, because the next thing you see is two more figures that step through the door with just  _ waaay _ too much self-importance. One is very tall, the other of average height. The only thing you can make out about the taller figure is that their smile seems to nearly glow from within the cloak.”

“Oh crap, it’s a robbery. Or a stickup, or a mass murder or-” Eiffel said, slowly getting louder.

Maxwell elbowed him. “Quiet!”

Lovelace looked around and couldn’t help but smile as she saw the attention that  _ most _ of the crew was giving her. “The other figure, the shorter of the two, draws back her hood, and you see a stunning drow woman. She points in your direction, Bixora, and then you realize she is specifically pointing at your charge and she says-'' In a girly singsong, that most at the table recognized as a pretty spot-on impression of Rachel Young, she continued: “Alright, kids! Just give us the noble lady, and nothing tragic has to happen here, okay?”


	3. roll for initiative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> as lovelace sets them upon their path of adventure, the gang tries their hand at combat, with varying degrees of success. tensions run high in roleplay that hits a little too close to home and has the two commanders very nearly at each other's throats, and doctor hilbert notices a pattern. but hey, it's just a game, right?
> 
> plus, bringing out the big guns, the dice curse, going all 'white knight', the wonder twins of the urania crew, and getting ready to rock and roll.

Lovelace smiled her best Rachel Young smile when she spoke as the drow woman. “Alright kids! Just give us the noble lady, and nothing tragic has to happen here, okay?”

A shiver passed though most of the table, with Hilbert looking thoroughly uninterested and Kepler looking as though he’d much rather be somewhere else when faced with the likeness of Rachel. 

“Well? What are you doing, everybody?” Lovelace asked.

“Uh…. I’m getting in between Peseta and the drow woman,” said Minkowski.

“Okay, she sees you do this, and she kind of quirks an eyebrow at you, still smiling, and she says ‘Did you hear me, dragonborn? This doesn’t have to end unpleasantly for you.’”

“It doesn’t have to be unpleasant for you either. Leave,” Minkowski replied in character.

“Not without her.”

“Not a chance. Leave now.”

“Hmm, fine. Be that way.” Lovelace scanned her notes, and then continued as the DM. “She points a finger at you, Minkowski, and casts Dominate Person.”

“Holy shit. Bringing out the big guns,” said Eiffel. “That means she’s at least-”

“If she’s a warlock?” Maxwell interrupted. “9th level.”

“Why are you thinking warlock?”

“Just a hunch.”

Lovelace smirked. “Hera, could you roll Minkowski’s Wisdom saving throw?”

“Sure thing, Captain.” Hera went silent for a second. “Oh… um… it’s-”

“Don’t tell me,” Minkowski groaned.

“It’s a natural one.”

“Yeesh,” sighed Lovelace. “Sorry Minkowski, but Bixora is charmed for one minute.”

“Goddamit,” Minkowski muttered. “So I guess that means-”

“Yep. She doesn’t even have to say anything, you just know to step aside with a smile as she takes Peseta by the shoulders and begins to shove her towards the door of the tavern.”

“We see all of this happening, DM?” asked Maxwell.

“For sure.”

“Okay, I’m going to try and stop her, uh-” 

“Alright then. Is everyone else going to try and get in on the fight, because then we can all roll for initiative-” An almost resounding chorus of yes’s boomed from around the table, with the exception of Hilbert. Lovelace had decided to ignore him for the time being. “Alright! Let’s go guys! Hera, if you would?”

“Sure thing,” she replied. After everyone had rhymed out their initiative modifiers to Hera for the sake of convenience (with some help from Maxwell and Eiffel to find it on their character sheet), she was able to generate an initiative order including the drow woman and a few of her cronies. “Alright, so in order, we have Eiffel, Maxwell, the drow, Minkowski, bandits one and two, myself, Hilbert, bandit three, Kepler, and then Jacobi.”

The group’s first try at combat was…  _ difficult _ to say the least. The experienced players got through mostly without a hitch, but as for teaching the others… well, they powered through it. Hilbert was a challenge, as expected, but once he realized there was just enough math to be done to hold his interest, his druid managed to hold his own. When his turn was over, he then proceeded to slink back into silence, silently deciding that this game was only fun during combat. Hera’s sorcerer was having a mixed bag of luck with her wild magic surges. She caused minimal damage to herself at the very least, but a confusion spell accidentally centred on herself took a few Wisdom saving throws before she succeeded and got back in the fight. Once Minkowski’s paladin managed to save on the Dominate Person spell, with some help from Eiffel’s Bardic Inspiration, her greatsword was practically unstoppable. Maxwell was playing her wizard to the highest efficiency, with the truly impressive management of a utility caster. Kepler actually seemed to have read up slightly on his class, and only needed a little bit of help to learn the in-game mechanics of his firearms and starting to verge into the trigger-happy side of things. As for Jacobi, well… he understood how it was supposed to work, but it would seem that probability had other plans.

Hera rolled again for him. “Uh, that’s a natural one.”

“Are you kidding me? Again?” Jacobi cried, head in his hands.

“Jacobi… I think you might have a dice curse,” said Maxwell.

“Dice curse? What the hell is a dice curse?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. You can’t roll well to save your life.”

“I rolled well when I was stealing Hera’s money! Why can’t I get a stupid hit in on the stupid bandits?”

“Maybe it’s just karma,” Lovelace mused.

“Or a dice curse,” Maxwell added, grinning.

“Curses aren’t real, Alana,” said Jacobi.

“Tell that to your third natural one!”

“Fine. Whatever.  _ I  _ know that it’s just bad luck. I am not cursed.”

“Unless... “ she said, trailing off.

“Unless?” Lovelace and Eiffel asked in unison.

“Unless you are.”

“I am not cursed! It’s a weird fluke of probability. Stop saying that I’m cursed!”

“Okay! If you insist! But you’re not touching any of my dice ever. You’ll curse them.”

Jacobi resisted the urge to pitch a fit, and instead grumbled something about the dice curse being some kind of sick D&D hazing ritual. 

Combat continued on, with Jacobi managing to avoid any more natural ones. He was, however, stopped short of getting any real hits in, much to his very loud frustration. The group began to fall into a little bit of a rhythm. Before too long they could feel the tide turning, as most were able to deal some good damage to every enemy. Every enemy except the drow woman and the cloaked figure, that is, who had yet to do anything but stand and observe with a grin. Lovelace could see the party getting confident in their abilities, but she knew that she couldn’t exactly have them win here, or else there wasn’t much of a story left to be played. So, when a clear path out of the tavern was left, she didn’t hesitate to let the drow woman get away with Bixora’s charge, leaving the party catching their breath over the defeated bandits and looking at each other expectantly. 

“So… now what?” Eiffel asked in character. Each person took their cue from that to switch into roleplay mode, causing Lovelace to smile softly.

“What do you mean  _ now what _ ? We go after them!” said Minkowski.

“Are you sure that’s wise? You saw what they can do,” Kepler replied.

“So we’re just supposed to let them get away with the girl that I was supposed to protect?”

“Not sure that’s our problem. Sounds to me like you failed to do your job,” he added with a smirk.

“Is this funny to you?”

“Hell no. Just trying to be logical,” he deadpanned.

“You seemed inclined to help just a second ago. Guns blazing and all that.”

“Saw an opportunity to take the old firearms out for a ride. I was more of a mind to help the lady getting kidnapped than to help you do your job, in any case.”

“You want to argue about semantics? Fine. I’m going after them, because the longer we wait, the harder it’s going to be to track them down. Anyone else want to help?”

Everyone took a second to slowly reel from Minkowski and Kepler (mostly Kepler) getting into roleplay of their own accord like that.

Jacobi finally spoke up. “Well, what would be in it for us?”

“Forget that,” said Hera. “She’s, um, in danger. If I can, um, help, I’m going to. I’m in.”

“Thank you,” said Minkowski. “Your name, I’m sorry it’s-”

“Fayeth. Nice, um, nice to meet you.”

“You as well. I’m Bixora.”

“Well?” Hera asked. “I can’t be the only one that’s going to help her out.”

“No, you’re right,” Eiffel replied. “If we can help, then let’s go for it. I’ll come.”

“Thank you. It’s Yenkin, right?” Minkowski asked with an amused smile.

“Correctamundo. That’s me.”

Jacobi glanced at Maxwell, and she nodded encouragingly. After a few years of friendship, she could basically read his mind. He was going to go for it with the roleplay. She beamed like a proud mom. 

“I reiterate: what’s in it for us?” he said in character.

“Not that we’re unwilling to lend a hand, only-” Maxwell added in the Irish accent of her wizard.

“Only we’d be risking our lives for you. And I’m not exactly stoked to go all ‘white knight’ for the stranger who shook me down in a bar.”

“I didn’t shake you down. I asked you to return Fayeth’s money that you  _ stole _ .”

“Potayto potahto. Anyways, like my friend here said, we’re not  _ unwilling _ to help-”

“But I’m sure we can be fiscally persuaded,” Maxwell finished. 

Minkowski sighed. “Fine. I’m getting paid to protect her anyways, or at least I  _ was _ . I’m willing to split it with all of you-”

“Now  _ that’s  _ what I’m talking about-” he interrupted.

“If, and only if, we get her back into my care  _ alive _ .”

The Wonder Twins of the Urania crew exchanged looks. Maxwell nodded.

“Agreed,” she replied.

“Great. How about you two?” Minkowski asked, looking Kepler and Hilbert over.

“Yes. It is not like I have anywhere to go,” Hilbert grumbled sarcastically, more in reference to the game itself than what was happening within it.

“Glad to have you along for the ride,” Eiffel said, in that borderline-insulting French accent. “What’s your name, comrade?”

Hilbert glared at him, and sighed in defeat. “Rasrug.”

Minkowski jumped in before Eiffel could irritate him any further. “Alright.” She looked back at Kepler expectantly. “Well? We could use your firepower, and there’s coin in the mix if that sweetens the pot for you.”

“Well,” he began slowly, dragging out the words just to frustrate her, “when you put it like that-”

“Great,” she interrupted. “Glad to have you with the party. What did you say your name was?”

He clenched his jaw slightly, and then silently reminded himself that this was morale night, and as much as he would have liked to launch into a lecture of barely-restrained fury, it wouldn’t have done much. He’d be wasting his breath, and setting a bad example. Besides, this  _ was _ just a game, right? It wasn’t like he could reasonably get angry at her for playing a game. He could get angry at her for anything, of course, but not  _ reasonably _ angry for anything. That was the conclusion he’d come to at least, and he liked to keep an air of reason about himself. 

“She just asked your name,  _ monsieur _ ,” Doug quipped in character. “It’s not alchemy.”

Kepler flashed a toothy grin. “Vernon Cain. Now, if we’ve finished with pleasantries, I believe there’s a damsel in distress that needs rescuing. Correct, Captain Lovelace?”

Isabel jumped slightly at the sudden break of character. She had honestly just been enjoying the show of how quickly the group had gotten the hang of the game. “Uh, yes. You’d estimate it’s been about five minutes since the drow woman and her companion left with Peseta, and the bandits you fought have progressed nicely into bleeding out.”

“Wonderful.” He turned back to the rest of the group. “So, Bixora, how do you intend to find them?”

Minkowski thought for a second and looked at the rest of the crew expectantly, seeming to draw a blank. “Well, I mean, could split up and look for them? I’m not sure. They really could have gone anywhere, and I… does anyone have any ideas?”

“Uhhhh… no.” Hera’s voice rang through the speakers. “I don’t… um, I don’t know Commander. Can, um, can anyone cast Locate Person?”

The table fell silent as the casters examined their spell sheets. As it turns out, the answer was no, no one could cast Locate Person. Luckily, Lovelace had prepared for that. She hadn’t been one to hand her party the answer like this in the past, but time was of the essence with a one shot, and she hadn’t prepared this NPC for nothing.

She transitioned back into the slight voice change she had been using for her narration. “Actually, as you’ve all been debating over what to do, someone has carefully approached from behind. She taps you on the shoulder, Bixora, and you turn to see a slight half-elf woman with mousy black hair and spectacles. She’s wearing a well-made, but not flashy, dress, and you actually notice her pendant that she wears bears an engraving of, uh… a pair of eyes surrounded by seven stars. Could I have you roll Minkowski a religion check, Hera?”

“Yeah-huh, Captain Lovelace… that’s a seventeen.”

“This is rigged,” Jacobi muttered.

Lovelace shot him a look, and then turned back to Minkowski. “Alright, plus your religion modifier, so that makes it a-”

“23,” she said.

“23! Yeah, you recognize that symbol immediately as the symbol of Selune, goddess of the moon. You assume she must be a cleric. And she says-” Lovelace straightened her posture and affected a soft English accent, beginning to speak as the half-elf. “Excuse me? I think I have a way I can help you find your friend, if you want. I’m Aurore.”

Alexander Hilbert shifted uncomfortably once again, this time at noticing the likeness of this character to Victoire Fourier. He could excuse the barkeep’s similarity to Mace Fisher as a coincidence, but this was beginning to feel intentional on Lovelace’s part, and he wondered what she thought she was playing at. What’s done is done, and if she intended to make him feel guilty through some silly game, like a child’s attempt at The Mousetrap, well, she had another thing coming. 

Lovelace had glanced at him as soon as she had felt his annoyed stare fixed on her. He could stare all he wanted. It wasn’t like he’d have the guts to have this argument in front of everyone here.

Eiffel once again elected to break the odd tension in the room. He turned to Isabel, getting straight back into the roleplay. “Alright then,  _ mademoiselle _ ! Whatcha got, kid?”

Lovelace smiled, and eased back into character. “Well, for starters, you all look like you could use a heal. Oh, and I can also cast Locate Creature.”

“Bingo!” Eiffel cried, glancing at the rest of the party. “Alright guys. Let’s get ready to rock and roll!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> third chapter!! i honestly figured that i would fuse rachel and pryce into one npc since i believe lovelace doesn't know pryce in canon prior to season four but... that's only if you noticed lol. but anyways, i hope you've been enjoying thus far, and thanks for all your sweet comments and kudos! it's a big encouragement for the first fic i've published anywhere.


	4. lead the way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the group heads out to stop the kidnapping once and for all, but not before getting some pertinent information from a ghost of hilbert's past. snooping is done, banter is aplenty, and the mystery that lovelace has carefully crafted is beginning to roll out right in front of them (pun not intended).
> 
> plus, the Reading of (and Subsequent War Regarding) Truths Contained In Colonel Kepler’s Personal Black-Archive-Cleared Server, insubordinate clowns, the Fantasy Eiffel Tower, non-nerdy English, and private school wizards.

“Alright guys! Let’s rock and roll! We’ll have that Locate Creature spell to go, please,” Eiffel said. The others looked at him expectantly. He held his hands out expectantly. “Guys? Hello? Rocking, and/or rolling?”

“We need to get healed up if we don’t want to die on this outing,  _ Yenkin _ ,’ said Maxwell.

“Yes, hello?” said Lovelace in Aurore’s voice. “You’re in a hurry, I understand, so I won’t keep you. Quickly, now, everyone. Round me for a heal.” Lovelace described Aurore’s quick prayer, muttering to heal the party to full health, considering how well she rolled. Aurore then managed to get a sketch and a description of Peseta from Bixora, which allowed her Locate Creature spell to get a solid enough beat on where the troupe of bandits had taken her. “Hm. She’s east. If my map of the area is right, they’ve taken her just through Eastshallow at this point, and she’s… on her way to Windrip Wood. You may have to hurry to catch up with them before the wood gets too thick to easily follow them though. They didn’t leave in a cart, I noticed, and at the speed she was traveling, I’d say they're still on foot.”

“Thank you so much, you’ve been unbelievably helpful,” Minkowski replied. “Alright, everyone, let’s get going.”

“Wait-” she interrupted. “Aurore digs a letter out of her bag and says ‘if you’re passing through Eastshallow and you have a chance to stop for supplies, health potions and the like, my friend, Mizen, he owns an apothecary and sells some magic items on the side. The Wild Star, it’s called. This letter, it’s a private message for him, but tell him I sent you and you should be able to stock up on some good things at a discount. Or free of charge. He loves a good sob story like yours.’”

“I take the letter from her and tell her, ‘Yes, we will if we get the opportunity. Thank you,” said Minkowski. “Alright everyone, let’s go.”

The party all agreed to head out of the tavern and in the direction that Aurore had pointed them. They were pushing on as fast as they could, when an idea seemed to strike Jacobi. He looked at Minkowski and smiled.

“Soooo. Bixora,” he said, fading back into the cockney accent of Sly.

“What?” Minkowski replied in character.

“Do you have anything you want to share?”

“I already told you. You get paid when we get Peseta back safely.”

“Oh no. I’m talking about  _ the letter _ .”

She scoffed. “What? No. She said it was a personal message. What could you possibly want from-”

“Oh, come  _ onnn _ . Aren’t you just a little bit curious to see what’s inside? What scandalous things she might have to say?”

“No. I’m not.”

“Mhmm. Really?” Maxwell added, switching back into roleplay mode herself.

“Really really. Why do you two care so much about a stranger’s business?”

“Because other people’s secrets are much more exciting than mine,” Maxwell replied.

“And why is that?”

“Because I already know all of my own secrets. Where’s the fun in that?”

“Very funny. It’s not even a secret, I’m sure, just a personal matter.”

“Well if it’s not a  _ secret _ ,” said Jacobi, “then what is the harm in looking?”

“Just an itsy, bitsy peek, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes-Paladin,” Maxwell teased.

“Nope. We are not doing this again,” Minkowski said, breaking character for a moment to reference the disaster that was the Reading of (and Subsequent War Regarding) Truths Contained In Colonel Kepler’s Personal Black-Archive-Cleared Server shift. 

“Whatever could you mean,  _ Bixora _ ?” Maxwell asked, refusing to break character in turn.

Minkowski glared at her. “Look. We’ve got a girl to go save. Now is not the time, right Fayeth?” she asked, glancing towards the speakers for Hera’s backup.

“Well, actually…” Hera said.

“Oh come on.”

“Why not, um, take a look just to appease them? Doesn’t, um, seem like they’ll let it go if you don’t.”

“She’s right,” said Jacobi with a grin.

“We most certainly won’t,” Maxwell added. 

“In fact,” said Eiffel. “I think  _ I  _ want to hear what’s in the letter too.”

“Not you too. Rasrug?” she asked, turning to Hilbert.

“Do not care,” he replied flatly. “Do what you want. Does not matter.”

“You’re fun,” said Jacobi, his tone practically dripping sarcasm. 

Renée let out a long sigh. “Oh, come on. What does one letter really matter? Vernon, back me up, would you? This is stupid.”

Kepler sensed an opportunity to get on Minkowski’s nerves and took it gladly. “Actually, I can’t see the harm in having a look. We want to know what kind of business we might be associating ourselves with, if at all.”

“Goddamnit. None of you have any respect.”

“Lovelace?” said Eiffel.

“Yeah?” she replied.

“I cast Zone of Truth.”

“Oh boy. Give me the description of that one again?”

Eiffel cleared his throat and announced in the ‘soothing’ tones of Yenkin Joos: “You create a magical zone that guards against deception in a 15-foot-radius sphere centered on a point of your choice within range. Until the spell ends, a creature that enters the spell's area for the first time on a turn or starts its turn there must make a Charisma saving throw. On a failed save, a creature can't speak a deliberate lie while in the radius. You know whether each creature succeeds or fails on its saving throw.An affected creature is aware of the spell and can thus avoid answering questions to which it would normally respond with a lie. Such a creature can be evasive in its answers as long as it remains within the boundaries of the truth.”

Minkowski paled. “No. No way, Eiffel, you insubordinate clown-”

“Ah-ah,  _ mademoiselle _ ,” came the accented reply. “No ‘Eiffel’ here, unless you are speaking of the Eiffel Tower,  _ oui _ ?”

“Ah yes,” she deadpanned. “The Fantasy Eiffel Tower. Which definitely exists. In this Fantasy Realm we’ve created. You sage geographer.”

“Anyways. Bixora, are you  _ really _ opposed to opening the letter?”

Lovelace bit back a smile. “Minkowski, I need you to make a Charisma saving throw against Eiffel- sorry,  _ Yenkin _ ’s spell save DC. Hera, if you would?”

Hera glitched for a second or two, but came back with the reply. “Minkowski rolled a nine.” 

“With my proficiency in Charisma saving throws,” she said, with an air of victory about her, “that’s still a fourteen.”

Eiffel laughed. “Sorry,  _ ma commandante _ . DC was 15 on the dot.”

She groaned. “Fine. I am…  _ curious _ as to what the letter says.”

“And?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“And… I think Vernon may have a point when he says we should know if we’re getting ourselves involved with anything questionable, although Aurore seemed nice.”

“Annnnd?”

“And I’m beginning to get pretty fed up with you.”

“And are you really _ that _ opposed to opening the letter?’

“Fine then! No. I’m not really _ that _ opposed” Renée shouted. She turned to Isabel. “I open the letter very carefully. What does it say?”

Lovelace checked her notes. “ _ Oookay _ . It’s a brief message, it says:

_ My dearest, Mizen _

_ I’ve made my way from the temple, and I’ll be on my way in no time once I’ve spent a few nights at this tavern, just to lay low. I remind myself that it is not the Moonmaiden that I am betraying: she forgives, and her influence is one of change. Exactly like the change you and I are about to undergo, right, my love? Escaping will allow me to marry you, and be free of the crown’s influence that guards the magic of my fellow sisters and I inside. _

_ As soon as I discovered that the royals were just puppets of the Smiling Ruin then I knew I had to leave. The promise of a new life as your wife was all I needed to give me the courage to escape. I’ll see you soon, my darling. Wait for me. Look up at the night sky and know that Selune is guarding over you for me, and no one can hurt you.  _

_All my love,_ _Aurore”_

The table fell silent. Minkowski smiled softly. Hilbert was stone faced, and busied himself adjusting one button on his sleeve or another. Lovelace bit her lip to keep from thinking too much about the engagement rings she had found when clearing out Hui and Fourier’s quarters.

“Well. That was disappointing,” said Jacobi. “I mean at least we know they’re a little bit more than friends but like… nothing steamy.”

“They are in love, um, and it’s adorable,” Hera said matter-of-factly. “I’m very happy, um, happy for them.”

“Yeah, good for them, yay, happy, did that say  _ Smiling Ruin _ ?” Maxwell asked. 

“Yeah. What the hell is that all about?” Eiffel asked.

“Wait a minute. The cloaked person in the tavern. That was all you could see of them. Their smile.”

“Yes ma’am, it was both spooky and kooky, if you ask me.”

“Yes, very. But, that was probably them.”

“Wait,” said Hera, “but if they’re the one controlling the royals these days, then why, um, why would they have to kidnap a noblewoman? Couldn’t they just, um, take her, or call, um, call for her, if they wanted?”

“Peseta wasn’t exactly royal. She was a part of one of the noble families. DM, what else did Peseta tell me about herself?”

“Make an intelligence check, please.”

Minkowski had rolled fairly well, and Lovelace was able to tell her quite a bit. Apparently, Bixora’s charge was an emerging arcane researcher at the Filsorth Institute of the Arcane, and that was where she had been hired to escort her to safely. She was able to gather that Peseta’s family had in fact been in favour with the king, especially with the kind of work Peseta had been doing. All the noblewoman had known about the king’s particular interest in her studies was that he had said that certain friends of his were quite interested in her success, both academically and practically speaking.

“‘Certain friends?’” Hera asked. “Well, that’s probably this Smiling Ruin person, if that letter is to be believed.”

“Just a second,” Maxwell piped in. “I’m a wizard. I’ve got this. DM, can I make a check to see if I know anything about that Institute, or the kind of work they might have been doing there?”

“Yeah, like are we talking more Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry or Miss Robichaux’s Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies here?” Eiffel added.

“Let’s find out,” said Isabel. “Give me… a History or Arcana check, Maxwell. Your choice.”

She glanced over her ability modifiers. “Oh, Arcana for sure.”

“Cool cool,” she said with a thumbs-up. “Hera?”

“Already on it!” she called in response. “Oh, that’s a natural twenty!”

“Rigged! I’m telling you, it’s rigged!” Jacobi exclaimed.

“Mr. Jacobi,” Kepler growled in warning. Daniel sunk back into himself immediately, blushing. Lovelace coughed. 

“So,” said Maxwell, attempting to melt the icy beat that had swept the table. “Can I ask about my Arcana check?”

“Please do,” Eiffel muttered.

“Right, uh, let’s see,” Lovelace said, reading off her notes again. “Yeah, with a natural twenty, you definitely know a good bit about the place, so, okay: the Institute is fairly exclusive, there are classes you can attend as a member of aristocracy or if you’re from a political or wealthy merchandising family, but mainly it serves as the grounds for experienced casters to formulate new spells and experiment with existing ones. And with that high of a check as well, you have heard rumour recently that most of the Institute staff are trying their hand at combining transmutative and necromantic magics together, mostly in rituals, though the details are pretty hushed up.”

“That… sounds  _ awesome _ ,” said Alana.

“Hi, uh, yeah, can I have that in non-nerdy English please?” Jacobi asked.

“It means that a bunch of private school wizards are messing around with some magic that can turn things into other things and also probably raise the dead in some capacity. Which sounds really cool, and also extremely dangerous, and I  _ really _ want in on that.”

“You want in on that  _ in the game,  _ right?” he questioned.

Maxwell laughed nervously. “Uh… yes. Of course in the game. How else?” she replied sheepishly. 

Lovelace stared at her blankly for a second and tried not to look concerned. “Alright. So, just to speed things up here: you’ve been travelling throughout all of these interactions and you’ve made it to the town of Eastshallow. Is anyone keeping an eye out of the apothecary, or would you like to ask directions to the Windrip Wood, or…” she trailed off, hoping to nudge them in either direction to keep the story moving.

“Uh, I guess we sorta have to deliver that letter now that we know, um, know that it’s important,” said Hera. “Can we see it, or do we need a perception check?”

“Well, it’s right on the main road as you arrive in the town, so I’ll say that for the sake of brevity, no. The sign is only a little bit ahead for the Wild Star. It’s a narrow building, stacked tall with a few floors that seem to be taking every advantage of physics to stay standing when your brain tells you that it should  _ probably _ be toppling over. Do you go in?”

Minkowski looked around at the assembled group. “Well, we don’t  _ all _ need to go in to deliver a letter, do we?”

Eiffel looked at everyone. The group nodded with the notable exception of a snarl from Hilbert and a quirked eyebrow from Kepler. 

“Yeah. Uh, sorry, but, we’re all going into the magic shop,” said Eiffel, being met by a round of murmured agreement.

“Okay. I guess… I guess we’re all going in.”

You could hear Hera smiling from her vocal program alone. “Lead the way, Bixora!”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading thus far if you have! I wrote this on my day off for like, the entire day, so here's hoping it flowed well enough and didn't contain too much word vomit. Enjoy!


	5. a friend and a tactical advantage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the party has arrived at the Wild Star to purchase everything they might need for an adventure and return the favour of their acquaintance. hilbert invests in a tactical advantage and a memory, kepler takes everything as a threat to his authority, and the group at large acquires some new information about the powerful enemy they intend to make.
> 
> plus, baba yaga goes nuclear, non-homicidal gardening, the miranda trigger, wasted sarcasm, and the children of the corn.

With Hera’s call to action, Lovelace narrated the group’s entry into the Wild Star, led by Minkowski. As she told it, the apothecary was stacked wall to wall with herbs and potions that were ticketed with neat price tags. Whatever bare wall space existed between the shelves was dotted with star charts, although it wasn’t clear if they were for sale or not, and in place of a back wall, there was a curtain, presumably leading to another part of the store. 

“Where’s all the magic stuff?” Eiffel whispered.

“‘The magic stuff?’” Lovelace replied, suddenly in character with a nervous, yet friendly. disposition. She switched back to narration as quickly as she had started in roleplay. “You see from behind the counter a tall human man, with dark hair cropped close to his head. He’s got an armful of books that he looks to be struggling with, and he’s wearing a dirtied apron over some nice business robes.”

Hilbert didn’t have to examine the description or the voice that Lovelace was using for the shopkeep too closely to know that this was meant to be Kuan Hui. He didn’t even look up at her, just pretended to read his character sheet.

Lovelace continued as the clerk. “‘’Where are my manners? I’m Mizen, co-owner of the Wild Star.’ He puts down the books, almost like, knocking a ton of other things off the counter, and he extends a hand for all of you to shake.”

“Mizen?” Minkowski asked. “I’m Bixora. Nice to meet you.”

“You as well! Always a thrill to have adventuring types pop by.”

“How’d you know?”

“Oh, the shield, the greatsword, the fact that your friend over there has a firearm. Don’t see too many of those.”

“He’s not my friend,” Minkowski deadpanned. Kepler shot her a threatening look that was thinly veiled as amusement. She cleared her throat. “Colleague.”

“I see,” Lovelace replied. “So, what can I do for you?”

“Well, first of all, we were sent by Aurore. She asked us to give you this letter,” said Minkowski, miming passing the envelope to Lovelace, who pretended to take it with excitement.

“You all, you’re friends of Aurore’s?”

“She’s not our friend,” Kepler interrupted. “Colleague. Hell, an acquaintance.”

Minkowski stared daggers at him, but she was only met with a breezy smirk. “Anyways,” she continued through gritted teeth, “yes, so that letter is for you. And we’re on a quest, in a bit of a hurry actually, so she told us we might be able to get some supplies and maybe some magic equipment to help us out.”

“Absolutely! That’s what we’re here for. But, when it comes to the magic items, you  _ are  _ going to have to talk to my business partner back there.” Lovelace gestured to where the players supposed the back curtain would be. “Um, Quinhorn, buddy? Are you back there?”

“Did she say anything about a business partner back at the tavern?” Maxwell asked the others.

“Didn’t  _ think _ so,” said Minkowski. “But we were kind of in a rush, so-”

Lovelace cleared her throat slightly to warm up for the familiar character voice she was about to try. “‘Mizen, I’m extremely busy right now. I’ve got to finish up work on this medallion within the next day!” she exclaimed. 

Hilbert could recognize Lovelace’s impression of Sam Lambert anywhere. The description she gave of a bespectacled halfling with curly hair only solidified who he already knew to be the basis for this character. He could barely decide if he was angry, uncomfortable, or simply sad. It didn’t matter much, he supposed. This was a game, and in his mind, Lovelace was the one choosing to be immature about it, not him. 

They had been on Isabel’s mind recently, her crew, and she wasn’t quite sure why. It could have been the way Eiffel smiled like Lambert. Or how Jacobi would laugh like Fisher. Or how Maxwell would ramble on about her latest scientific-whatevers like Hui and Fourier. There were a lot of ghosts in this place, but more than that, it just felt like when someone new showed up, they would inevitably remind her of that first family she had lost. Whether or not she trusted the crew of the Urania was a different story. But, she had to admit that those little coincidences had warmed her to Jacobi and Maxwell, albeit subconsciously, a little more than she would have liked. So, it seemed that Hui, Fourier, Fisher and Lambert were all still with her, even after all this time. That wasn’t a surprise, and in preparing this game she knew that, as silly as it might have seemed, if she could give them this, a tiniest bit of a second life inside a fantasy world, then she would. It was the least she could do. And Hilbert could deal with it. 

Isabel continued with her story. “So,” she said, in the nasal voice of Quinhorn, “Oh, uh, adventurers. Hello. I would ordinarily be willing to help, it’s just that I am extremely busy at the moment, so if you’re looking for anything in particular, I’d-”

“We’re in a rush too,” Maxwell replied. “In fact, we should probably focus on getting our stuff and going if we want to have a chance against that Smiling Ruin character.”

Lovelace blinked. “ _ Smiling Ruin _ ? Did… did you just say you were going after the Smiling Ruin?” the halfling asked.

“Yes. Why? Do you know them or something?”

“Well, no, but, yes. I know  _ of _ him. Anyone who’s paying attention knows  _ of _ him. You all must be crazy.”

“Only some of us. Care to enlighten us with what you’ve heard?”

“Well for starters, fae lord, so he’s unpredictable. Rumour has it he’s got the entire royal family in his pocket, and anyone that’s crazy enough to go wandering into his domain doesn’t come back, or if they do, they’re… not the same.”

“Not the same?” she asked with a nervous smile.

“No. Well, you know the fae. Tricky, always messing with your head. It seems that he’s really into that though, more so than most. People that come back are like… shells. They’ve lost themselves. They’re not  _ anybody _ anymore.”

Jacobi sighed. “Minkow-  _ Bixora _ ? What the hell have you gotten us into?”

“How was I supposed to know?” she shot back.

“Well,” said Maxwell, “like you said, time is of the essence. Let’s get our things and go.”

Maxwell was quite efficient about buying health potions, rations, and various other pieces of assorted adventure necessities and splitting the price between them. She did insist that Minkowski pay a little bit more, as the character of Eliphyra, as well as Maxwell herself, were of the opinion that it was only right for the person that had gotten them involved to chip in and make up for it.

Once they had purchased everything they required and gotten directions to the bespoke Windrip Wood, though, Lovelace had one more plan for the magic shop before they left. She knew she would need something good to get Hilbert involved in anything that wasn’t combat, and she had a feeling this would be it. After all, even if she had a bit of a grudge against the man… well, she liked him more than she liked Kepler, at least, and as a DM she had always tried to include all of her players and write in encounters that would appeal to them.

She shrunk into herself slightly and took on the persona of the halfling enchanter once again, and addressed Hilbert. “Um, excuse me? Just before I get back to my work, being very busy and all of that, I thought I’d… well, you’re a druid, correct?”

Hilbert glared at her for nearly a full twenty seconds in silence.

“Hello?” Doug asked, “Hilb-  _ Rasrug _ ? Is anyone home?”

“I heard perfectly clear, Officer Eiffel,” Hilbert replied.

Lovelace continued to look at him with an unrelenting smile. “You  _ are _ a druid, right? It’s just that we can’t take care of her anymore, and-”

“Captain Lovelace. I would rather not,” he said, his tone as venomous as it was dry.

“I just thought I’d have something that would interest you, but-”

“Not interested.”

“Oh man,” Eiffel whispered. “Baba Yaga is about to go nuclear.” 

“Shut up, Eiffel,” Minkowski said flatly. 

“He produces a pot,” said Lovelace, continuing despite the distractions. “And growing inside of it is a creature of vines and leaves twisted together into a humanoid shape with two large flowers in the place of eyes. You’d recognize it as some domesticated and miniature version of a shambling mound. As well, hanging off of the pot is a little handmade sign that says ‘Blessie. One silver.’”

Hilbert stopped dead and turned his attention towards Lovelace, his interest piqued, although he tried to hide it. “This is… what would I need plant for?”

“Company? A non-homicidal gardening hobby? Sentimental value?” Eiffel raised. “Come on. Do it for Specimen 34.”

“And it’s not just some sort of pet,” said Lovelace, “it’s got it’s own attacks that it can use in battle.”

“A friend  _ and _ a tactical advantage!” Eiffel exclaimed. “The whole package, Doc!”

Hilbert looked at his inventory. “Well I… I do have adequate funds and carrying capacity, yes?”

“Coin? Yeah, you’re probably good. And for the sake of not getting bogged down in the numbers, I’ll say you think you can carry Blessie just fine,” Isabel said with a wink.

“Hm. Fine,” he grunted. “I will take  _ Blessie _ .”

“Is Blessie getting paid too?” Jacobi quipped.

“What would Blessie need money for? Is plant.”

“You know what, never mind.” He winced with mock despair. “The art of my sarcasm is wasted here. Wasted, I tell you!”

“It’s not wasted on me,” Maxwell replied, only half in character. “Now. Can. We.  _ Goooo _ ? I crave battle!”

“You heard R. Tam. Her Miranda trigger’s kicked in, ” said Eiffel. “Let’s get a move on!”

“Okay, cool!” Lovelace said, then switching back into narration mode. “Both the shopkeepers bid you goodbye as you leave and take off out of the town for the Windrip Wood.”

Hera’s vocal program rattled through the comms, reminding the group suddenly that she was there. “Soooo, what’s the plan once we get, um, into the woods proper? Just wander around and, um, and hope we’re going in the right direction?”

“I guess?” Minkowski said, it being more of a question than an answer.

“I guess,” Jacobi replied. “I think we all just thought that Lovelace-”

“The  _ story _ ,” Maxwell corrected.

“We all thought ‘ _ the story _ ’ would take us where we needed to be, but…”

“At this point, you’ve reached the woods,” Lovelace slipped in. “They look to be thick and mostly consist of oak trees. The canopy is so dense that you can barely see in twenty feet before the only light emanating is the occasional glowing mushroom on the forest floor.”

“Navigating this is going to be a  _ nightmare _ without a map or a guide. Or divine intervention,” Minkowski joked.

“Wait,” Maxwell interrupted. “What would we say to a little hellish intervention? Sly?”

“What? What am I going to do?” Jacobi asked.

“Contact your patron. See if it’s willing to lend us a hand. Tell us what it knows.”

Jacobi flipped through his papers. “Uh, my patron, it says here, is a  _ literal demon _ , so maybe we should, uh, hold off on that until we’re desperate. How’s about we just keep walking-”

“Until we find something to fight? Sounds good to me.”

“You can always read my mind.”

“Your mind is a picture book. It’s not like it’s hard.”

“Hey.”

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No. I’m not.”

“Alright, DM,” Eiffel interjected, “It looks like we’re soldiering forward. The Children of the Corn are getting antsy.”

“Cool, cool!” Lovelace glanced down at her notes for the encounter she had planned next, and her heart nearly skipped a beat. In all the excitement of the session so far, she had nearly forgotten about this part. But, oh boy, this was going to be  _ something _ . She steadied herself and resumed her narration. “As you continue into the forest, and the sunlight grows dimmer with every step, you suddenly hear a dull  _ thud _ .” She scanned the party’s reactions, which ranged from rabid interest (Eiffel and Maxwell) to thinly veiled boredom (Hilbert). “Then another  _ thud _ . And then another. And another, and another after that, getting closer and closer towards you. Then, you realize: it’s not the trees blocking out the sun anymore. It’s a giant creature that has paced right up to you. You’d barely even noticed, since its legs were as thick as the surrounding tree trunks. The giant silhouette nearly blocks out the light from the canopy, and you follow its form up from the grotesque webbed feet, to the slick feathered body, to the elongated vicious mouth. Out of that very vicious mouth, and echoing in the forest all around you, the creature lets out a horrifying cry that shakes the very ground you stand on. It sounds a little something... like...  _ this _ :” she whispered, turning to Jacobi with a sinister grin. “ _ Quack _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW this is turning out to be a long one! I hope you're enjoying, there's still a few more chapters to go!


	6. how do you want to do this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jacobi is thrown into a personal nightmare by lovelace's dming, and everyone must unite to cover their mutual ass or face the wrath of the colonel. maxwell translates some eiffelese for the group, and lovelace gambles with a character voice that sounds all too familiar and has some... debatable implications.
> 
> plus, a state of murderous rage, duckzilla, thaumaturge barbie, the cheshire cat from hell, and speaking fluent geek.

“ _ Quack _ .”

The colour drained from Jacobi’s face almost just as quickly as Hera, Minkowski and Maxwell burst into laughter.

“What? What’s so funny?” Eiffel asked. “Is… Jacobi? You… you look like you’ve taken real-life psychic damage. You alright buddy?”

Jacobi swallowed “No, Eiffel. I’m not alright. I am currently in what you would call a ‘ _ state of murderous rage _ ’, and Maxwell had better grab me before I do something irrational to Captain Lovelace’s face in 3, 2-”

Kepler grabbed him instead, as Maxwell was too busy laughing to do much of anything. He leaned in close. “Don’t lose your cool.”

“ _ Why would you DO THIS _ ?” Jacobi yelled, trying to shake himself of Kepler’s grip and launch himself at Lovelace, despite his own forewarning.

“I’m sorry!” she cried. “Well, I’m not, but, don’t shoot! It’s funny!”

“Oh sure. Hilarious. It’s all a super, haha, funny  _ knee-slapper _ of a prank. Look at my face right now. Don’t I just look tickled pink?”

“Well maybe it’s not funny to  _ you _ -”

“It is most certainly  _ not _ funny to me! I told you that in the strictest of confidences, and you have the balls to weaponize it and turn it against me?”

“You didn’t ‘ _ confide _ ’ in us. You got exposed, and you lost it!”

“Because you all were jerks about it!”

“We would never be jerks about your very sensitive and rational phobia!” Lovelace said with mock offense.

“Oh, really? Then what would you call this little gag, huh?”

“Jacobi?” Kepler murmured. “How did they find out about this?”

Jacobi’s eyes went wide as he remembered just how against-protocol the way the others had discovered his fear was. “Uh… truth or dare. Right guys?”

The others took their cue and nodded. Maxwell refused to meet Kepler’s eyes. 

Kepler smiled slightly. “Truth… or… dare. Heh. I see. I take it that was fun, Doctor Maxwell?”

Maxwell bit down a deer in the headlights look. “Uh, yes sir. Just… something to pass the time.”

“Something to pass the time,” he repeated. “It’s funny, see, I don’t recall ever running across this game. It  _ is  _ a large station, but... When exactly was this game, Lieutenant Minkowski?”

“Uh… during some of the quieter moments while syncing the astromechanical data from the Hephaestus to your personal server a few rotations ago, sir,” she said.

“Oh? So, I take it that that’s why Officer Eiffel seems to have been surprised and still doesn’t seem to have the slightest clue what’s going on?”

“What?” Eiffel asked.

“Yes, Eiffel,” Kepler continued. “Would that be why, Captain Lovelace?”

“I would say so, yes sir. Word must not have traveled to him yet,” Lovelace answered without flinching. 

“And Doctor Hilbert, you were…”

“Most likely completing different task on that rotation, sir. Have no memory of said game,” he replied.

“Right, right. Hera? Did you have fun playing this game?” Kepler asked, casting his gaze up to her nearest speaker.

Her head spun quickly to find a way to avoid lying outright and saving herself the pain that would come with it. Finally, she landed on something that was technically true. “I just observe, um, sir. You, um, need a body, um, body, to do most dares, sir.”

“Of course. Mr. Jacobi?” he asked, turning back towards his right hand. 

“Sir?”

“Would you say this questioning period has given you enough time to calm down from your scare and continue with the game?”

A moment of realization passed through the table. Jacobi smiled slightly. He was… was Kepler actually being considerate?

“Uh, yes sir. I think it has,” said Daniel. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Apologies for the interruption, Captain Lovelace. Please continue.”

“Okay, alright, cool,” she said. “Everyone roll for initiative.”

It took approximately ten seconds for Doug to start referring to the creature as ‘Duckzilla’. Duckzilla had little in the way of unique attacks, considering that Lovelace had planned this encounter to be more of a joke than an actual threat. In short, the party made quick work of it. After Yenkin narrowly avoided getting crushed underfoot, the rest of the party made sure to keep their distance from the webbed feet that would haunt Jacobi’s nightmares. Kepler dealt a  _ lot _ of damage, to Minkowski’s silent frustration. Her melee greatsword attacks weren’t worth the risk, and so she dealt mostly in keeping the party healthy with her Lay on Hands healing ability. Hera and Maxwell in particular shone as casters. Hera seemed to have picked up on the way Maxwell managed her spell attacks, and was applying it to her own turns. Eiffel continued to inspire and get a few attacks in, and Hilbert was contributing with as much tactical efficiency as he could without appearing enthusiastic. Jacobi sank deeper into the depths of despair each time he rolled below a ten (which was a suspicious amount of times). He was just about to give up hope of rolling well for the rest of his life when something magical happened.

“Alright,” said Jacobi. “Let’s see if I can get a stupid hit in on this… this-”

“Duckzilla,” Doug said with a nod. “It’s Duckzilla.”

“I’m not calling it that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m grumpy right now. Can I just… I don’t know, can I hit it with an Eldritch Blast, see if that does anything?”

“Hera?” Lovelace asked. “A spell attack roll for Jacobi, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Just a moment!” she replied. “Oh… oh!”

“Oh?” Jacobi deadpanned.

“Natural twenty!” Hera exclaimed.

“Bullshit.”

“Nope, um, nope! That is a critical success!”

He gave a tiny hesitant smile. “Wait, really?”

“Yes, um, yes really! Now, to roll your damage… uh, max damage, too! So, um, that is doubled because of the critical… plus your Agonizing Blast Eldritch Evocation bonus charisma damage…”

“Sorry Hera, but I’m going to stop you right there,” Lovelace interrupted. “Duckzilla had two HP left. Sly has definitely killed it.”

“I… I killed it,” Jacobi said. “I killed it!”

Maxwell smiled to herself. “ _ ‘How do you want to do this?’” _

“What?” Lovelace asked.

Maxwell looked at her expectantly, and then half-realized her mistake. “Wait, how long have you been away from earth?”

“Going on six years. Why?’

“Oh, right. In that case, I have the absolute  _ greatest _ actual play stream to show you when we get back. Remind me to hook you up with Critical Role. You too, Doug.”

“Uh, cool,” she replied. “I mean, I’m not sure what you’re saying but-”

“Just trust me.”

“Sure thing. Alright. So Sly vanquishes Duckzilla with an Eldritch Blast, and it falls, wings twitching, to the forest floor. You have survived yet another encounter with adventure. What would you all like to do next?”

“So, let me get this straight,” said Eiffel. “In our batting order, we’ve got me: Keytar Kimber, Hera: Sailor Neptune, Minkowski: Daughter of Smaug, Hilbert: Feed Me Seymour, Jacobi: Walking Hot Topic, Maxwell: Thaumaturge Barbie, and Kepler: Big Iron on His Hip. We don’t have a map, and our grand plan is to just kick it in the Forest of Fangorn until our Spidey Senses start tingling and tell us where to find the Cheshire Cat from Hell?”

Minkowski stared at him vacantly, opening her mouth to start saying something a few times before deciding against it and sinking back into defeated silence. “Eiffel, I… It…I… o-okay. I- I am…  _ forty _ percent sure that I understood about _ half _ of the points you made there, but-”

“Okay, more mainstream. I can try it more mainstream. So, we, Mystery Incorporated, are chill to just walk around the Hundred Acre Wood, and hope that we luck out and find the Joker sans any kind of Batmobile or Bat Signal. Is that our heist of the century?”

“Eiffel,” Jacobi piped in, his head and his hands. “I am begging you to say real words right now, because you’re making me feel like I don’t speak English by proxy.”

“Okay, so if we can’t find the Onceler before he shows Princess Peach just how bad he can be-”

“I can tell he’s trying to talk to me,” Jacobi whispered, dumbfounded. “It’s like I can hear him talking but when I try to piece the literal words together it’s not actually anything. It’s not a sentence. Am I dying?”

“What I think he’s _ trying _ to say is that we need a better plan than wandering around this forest and hoping we find the Smiling Ruin based on blind luck,” said Maxwell.

“Yeah!” Eiffel exclaimed. “She gets it!”

“I speak fluent geek,” Alana stage-whispered.

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“As you should. Anyways, he  _ does _ have a point, I guess? DM, do we have any sense of where we are in the forest?”

Isabel thought for a moment. “I’ll have someone make a general Wisdom check for that, please. Maybe the Druid wants to try?” 

Hilbert breathed a heavy sigh. “Yes, fine. Wisdom modifier is plus four, Hera.”

“You rolled a six, um, Doctor. So, ten total,” she replied.

Lovelace shook her head. “Yeah, you have no clue where you are.”

“Sly?” Maxwell asked, shifting back into her character’s persona. “I think we may need you to call in that favour now.”

“Alright, fine,” Jacobi grumbled. “Going to ask my demon boss for help, I guess. How do I do that? Do I need to perform a blood sacrifice or something?”

“In hindsight, I wish I had made that the case,” said Lovelace. “No, you’re of a high enough level that, in the interest of time, I’d say you can just tune in to your patron and hope he answers.”

“Okay. I do that, then.”

“Alright. So as you stand there and nearly meditate in order to reach a state that can be reached by your patron, what is the intention you’re keeping in mind when contacting him?”

“Uh, I’d like to know… how to find the Smiling Ruin. And if he knows anything that could help us.”

“Okay. You keep that in mind, and as you do, you begin to feel a flaming warmth emanating from all around you. It envelops you, but you remain calm, as you know this is a part of the process. Then, slowly emerging from that comfortable, illusory inferno, you feel a hand, only semi-corporeal, reach out from behind you and grab your shoulder. It appears to be made out of smoke. And from just behind that shoulder, you hear the familiar voice of your patron.”

“Please do a cool demon voice, please do a cool demon voice,” Doug whispered.

“Eiffel,” Minkowski spat through gritted teeth.

“Sorry.”

Lovelace bit back a smile, and assumed an upright posture, a low tone of voice, and a vaguely familiar Southern accent when she began to speak as the patron. “‘ _ And what can I do you for _ ?’” she crooned, in a spot-on impersonation of the Colonel.

Maxwell’s jaw dropped, and her eyes darted from Lovelace, to Kepler, and then back to Lovelace. “You. Did. Not.”

Isabel pretended to be confused. “Did? Did  _ what _ ? I have no idea what you mean.”

“Oh,” Jacobi murmured. “Oh no. Now, I’m not one hundred percent sure, but-”

“She just gave your literal demon patron the voice of-” Maxwell began.

“Yeah. Thought so.”

“Meaning, that she’s saying that-”

“Yeah. Thought so.”

Kepler twitched, and slowly turned his attention to Lovelace, eerily calm. “Captain?”

“Yes, Colonel?” she answered, innocent as a dove.

“I’m not sure I catch your meaning in this.”

“Meaning? I don’t have a meaning, sir.”

“No?’

“No, sir. Just picked a voice.”

“You’re sure now? Because Doctor Maxwell certainly seems to think that-”

“Doctor Maxwell is a very intelligent woman, Colonel. I’m sure whatever meaning she takes to this has its own merit.”

“You’ve contradicted yourself a little bit there, Captain.”

“No, sir. I don’t have a meaning. I’m the DM. My players take the meaning from whatever I throw at them.”

“I hope you’re telling the truth, now. I  _ can _ take a joke, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“Can he, though?” Eiffel whispered.

Lovelace ignored him. “I’ll tell you what, Colonel. You can take it however you want to. If I meant anything by this, it would only be as a joke. So, as long as you’re not offended-”

“Why would I be offended if you didn’t have any meaning to be offended by?”

Jacobi’s eyes widened. “He’s trying to start Questions Only. Don’t fall for it.”

“You know, the Captain might just be good at that game. We’ll try it sometime if you want, Captain Lovelace.”

“Fine by me, Colonel,” she replied. “Now, can I get back to my game, if we’re on the same page?”

“I don’t see why not, Captain.” He looked at her for a moment. “And, by the way, if it  _ was _ a joke… it’s pretty damn funny.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhh this turned out to be the kepler chapter so like... cowboy man time I guess? what's for dinner? thanks cavalry it's kepler content. 
> 
> so i think this one is... she's got a few more chapters in her but we're closer to the end than we are to the beginning if that makes sense. if you're reading this thanks for sticking with it thus far!


	7. a funny memory and a good payday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after some help from jacobi's totally fictional demon boss, the party ventures further into the woods in pursuit of the kidnapper. but, the more they know about their opponent, the less inclined they are to trust one another, and before they can make it to the smiling ruin's doorstep, they're going to need to agree that they're all in this together. 
> 
> plus, the Doctor Faustus route, annoyingly concise conclusions, the Spanish Inquisition, the Breakfast Club of Middle Earth, and a vengeful lover's quarrel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! sorry this one took so long, had a lot of stuff going on rn and was suffering from a bit of writer's block, but here it is! sorry in advance for the dialogue-heaviness, but thanks as always for reading!

“If it was a joke… it’s pretty damn funny,” Kepler said, with a typically unreadable air.

Lovelace peered at him for a second, and then broke into a sarcastic smile. “I’m glad you think so, Colonel. So, Sly: your patron has greeted you. Want to continue?”

Jacobi glanced to Kepler, almost as if he was asking permission. He raised his eyebrows expectantly in response, and Jacobi steadied himself back into the game. “Uh, hi. Yeah, man. We could use your help.”

“Could I ask what with?” Lovelace asked, resuming the persona of Jacobi’s patron. The Southern accent still dripped loosely from the character voice, and Maxwell buried her head in her hands to avoid looking at Kepler, or even worse, laughing. Eiffel wasn’t as successful in hiding his feelings, staring at Lovelace with a goofy grin. Minkowski visibly bit back a smile as Lovelace continued. “Can’t say I know why you’re helping these folks, and I’m not sure I’m inclined to do the same. But I’ll hear you out.”

“Uh, thanks. So, I- we’re not looking for much really. Just needed some information, maybe some directions...”

“Where to?”

“Well, see, we’re looking for this guy name the Laughing Wreck-”

Maxwell winced. “ _ Smiling Ruin _ .”

“The  _ Smiling Ruin _ . Apparently he lives in this forest somewhere, but the only outdoorsy type we’ve got is a little busy being the worst, and the rest of us chuckleheads didn’t think to bring a map, so…”

“Heh,” Lovelace interrupted. “ _ Smiling Ruin _ . Now  _ that _ takes me back. Sly, did I ever tell you about the Planar Trifecta Peace Talks and Allegiances of the Dark Kythorn?”

Maxwell snorted with laughter, and then buried her face again. Jacobi just stared at Lovelace, with a look that was a cross between amusement and plea for her to stop. “Uh...uh, yeah, actually I… I think you probably told me about that one, it sounds familiar, soooo-”

“Oh, I have? Well, in that case, you should already know everything you need to know about him. Don’t see why you’d need my help.”

“Wait, what?”

“Surely if I had told you about that, the good old Smiling Ruin would have come up. You don’t remember?”  
“Ohhhh... _right. That_ Smiling Ruin. Yeah, of course. Smiling Ruin. I’m stupid, yeah, of course. Forgot about that. But now I… I remember. So-”

“Is that so? You’re absolutely sure I told you about that one-”

“Yep. Yes. We’re all good,” Jacobi sputtered. “So, now that we’re on the same page there, I guess we would just appreciate some directions to his fortress or whatever.”

“He prefers  _ domain _ ,” Lovelace replied with a sinister grin. “And directions… well, I can certainly provide. Goodbye for now.”

“Okay? Bye? But, you didn’t-” Jacobi began.

“And suddenly,” Lovelace interrupted, resuming narration, “in front of you, the grass begins to smolder and burn away in response to some unseen flame, and a clear path leading deeper into the forest is left, as the feeling of the smoky grip melts away from your shoulder.”

“Someone want to remind me why I  _ didn’t _ choose the Devil Went Down to Georgia class? Cause that was rad,” Eiffel piped in.

“You, um, said you wanted, um, wanted to add a bit of ‘synth flair’ to your character this time, um, Officer Eiffel”, said Hera.

He sighed loudly. “Yeah, you’re right. Doesn’t mean I want to dance with the devil in the pale moonlight any less. Next time, remind me to try the Doctor Faustus route, okay?”

“There is  _ next time _ ?” Hilbert grumbled.

“What? Are you not having fun? I’m having a lot of fun.” Eiffel turned to Lovelace and pointed at her intently. “Yes. By the way, this is a lot of fun and you’re doing really freaking good.”

Lovelace blinked into surprise and allowed herself a small smile. “Thank you, Eiffel. Okay, so, what are you doing, everyone? Following the path?”

“We’ve got ourselves a Yellow Brick Road. We might as well use it,” said Doug.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Anything you want to discuss or keep an eye out for on your way?”

Maxwell nodded, and looked at Jacobi anticipatorily. He smiled with wide eyes, as if to ask her what she was waiting for. She leaned in and nodded, and then tilted her head towards the rest of the party. He shrugged. She nodded again. He leaned in close to her, and shrugged with more emphasis than before. Maxwell rubbed her temples and let out a sigh, and Jacobi extended hands towards her with exasperation. She was in the midst of waving wildly to get him to say what she expected, before Minkowski cleared her throat.

“You two have something you want to share with the rest of the class?” Minkowski asked.

“She’s just trying to cue him to tell us what he knows about this target of ours, and Mr. Jacobi hasn’t caught on because he doesn’t actually know anything about him” Kepler replied. Minkowski furrowed her brow with doubt, and Kepler merely shrugged. “After a while, you get used to reading their silent conversations.”

“You don’t  _ actually  _ know anything about the Smiling Ruin?” Maxwell asked, her frustration evident.

“No. I don’t. Wait, Lovelace, I don’t, right?” Jacobi asked.

“No, you don’t,” she answered.

“No, I don’t.”

“Then why in the world did you say that you  _ did _ ?” groaned Maxwell.

“Because: if that guy was going to tell us the story of what happened, we would have been there for an hour. At least. There would have been five irrelevant subplots, a preface, an epilogue, and an annoyingly concise conclusion. We didn’t have that kind of time. This girl is probably going to die if we don’t get to her quick enough, or worse.”

“And if she dies? No skin off our back.”

“No money in our pocket either, Ma- Eliphyra. We were going in pretty much blind anyways, and we shouldn’t stick around to see what this guy can actually do. That’s asking for trouble. We get in, we get the girl, we kill anyone that gets in our way, and we get out. We’re all home in time for supper, and we get to write today off as a funny memory and a good payday. Sound good?”

“It sounds drastically oversimplified,” Kepler replied. “From the sounds of things, we can’t possibly anticipate what we’re dealing with here, and we could have used the intel that you so quickly and eagerly declined. I don’t suppose you can do that little trick of yours twice in a row? Swallow your pride and get the information we need from your boss?”

Jacobi glared at him. “No. I can’t do it again. I’d have to rest up first. We’d be better off to keep moving.”

Lovelace peered at him carefully across the table. “Uh, Jacobi? What makes you say that you can only do it once? I never-”

“I’m lying, Captain,” he shot back, not even bothering to break his gaze from Kepler’s. “But from the way I understand it, he doesn’t know that in the game.”

Lovelace paused for a moment, and then nodded. “Alright. Hera, can you roll Jacobi a Deception check?”

“Sure thing, Captain,” she chirped. “Just one moment… um, that’s um, sixteen total.”

“It’s above a ten,” Jacobi deadpanned. “I’ll take it.”

“Colonel?” Isabel asked. “Are you trying to see if you believe him, or are you taking him at his word?”

He smiled, also neglecting to break eye contact with his right hand. “I think I’d like to see if he’s telling the truth.”

“Alright. Hera, and Insight check for the Colonel?”

“Already on it,” Hera replied. “That’s… a four-, um, fourteen total. So-”

“So you believe him.”

He sighed deeply, and nodded. “I suppose I do.”

“Does anybody else have a big plan?” Eiffel asked.

Maxwell sat quietly in the meantime, but you could nearly see the cogs in her head working to piece together her next move. She opened her mouth to say something a few times, but stopped short.

She did, however, catch the attention of Minkowski, who looked at her, waiting. “Docto- Eliphyra? You have an idea?”

“Not…  _ exactly _ ,” she answered. “No, not an idea. More of a… worry.”

“Oh, great. I could always use more of those.”

“I mean, it’s probably just me being paranoid, but-”  
“Being a little paranoid never hurt anybody. What’s on your mind?”

“Well, it’s just that… what did they say about this guy? That he changes people? He… controls them, turns them? He’s already pulling the strings with the monarchy, so, how do we…”

Minkowski’s eyes grew wide with realization. “How do we know one of us isn’t already working for him?”

“Oh, please,” said Eiffel. “C’mon. I get that no one expects the Spanish Inquisition and all, but go we really need more reason to be at each other’s throats all the time?”

“It’s, um, it’s an interesting thought, and probably, um, worth our attention,” Hera answered. “I mean, you can never be too careful.”

“Okay then, let’s walk through this. We, a bunch of complete strangers, got thrown together into the Breakfast Club of Middle Earth, by pure coincidence, because the Knight of Toothless was in the wrong place at the wrong time with her charge. And somehow, you think this guy could sneak his secret Winter Soldier into our merry band on the off chance that we even agreed to help out? Give me a break.”

“We weren’t in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Minkowski spat. “It was a targeted attack. They wanted her specifically, and they knew exactly where to get her. So, no, I don’t think it’s too much to think that we have a plant in our midst, just in case we were stupid enough to go after them.”

“And which one of us would that be? You’re the one that hired us all, Sly and Eliphyra are money hungry, Fayeth is almost too adorable to be here, Rasrug clearly doesn’t  _ want _ to be here, Vernon is just here to be an asshole, and I’m-” He stopped, trying to find the words to prove his innocence. “Well, I’m… I’m… it’s not me!”

“And how do we take your word for it?”

“Look, not to get meta here, but seriously Commander: you think I’m smart enough to play some kind of double agent on my own say-so?”

“You’re working really hard to convince us otherwise. Forgive me if I’m a bit suspicious,  _ Yenkin _ .”

“I’m not that good at lying! It’s as simple as that!”

“Well, it’s not like you’ve been telling the truth about anything up until this point!” Minkowski exclaimed. 

“I’m- wait. What?”

It hit her a little bit too late that Eiffel didn’t know that she knew about his record. She’d have to have that conversation eventually but… now was not the time for that slip up. “I’m sorry, Eiffel. Ignore that. Just got caught up in the moment, I guess.”

“Sure thing, Commander. Happens to the best of us. But,” he said, switching back into his Parisian character voice, “It is not me. I promise. You have full permission to march me to the guillotine if I am telling you lies,  _ madame _ .”

She laughed softly. “I like that bargain. Okay. I’m done pointing fingers if everyone else is.”

“Um, excuse me? I never got my chance to point fingers,” Jacobi quipped.

“No, you were quite busy lying to me, Mr. Jacobi,” Kepler replied.

“Hey now, Colonel. It’s just a game.”

“It certainly is that.”  
“Seriously, how have they not killed each other in a vengeful lover’s quarrel yet?” Eiffel muttered to Maxwell.

“Don’t ask me, I have no idea. But the mission is still young yet” she said.

“Look, I’d just like it if neither of you went all Jack Torrance on the rest of us, so, try to avoid trouble in paradise, for  _ our  _ sake.”

Kepler looked nearly embarrassed at the oddly comfortable ribbing. He had thought that him and Jacobi were subtle enough to at least have gotten by Eiffel. Jacobi had flushed slightly. Clearly he had thought the same.

They weren’t subtle. Enough said.

“Okay, everybody. Let’s leave them alone,” said Lovelace.

“Thank you, Captain,” Jacobi responded.

“No, I just want to get this show on the road. You guys have a supervillain of a fae to fight, remember?”

“Right, that. Sooooo… are we there yet?”

“Please do not start with immediate annoyance,” Hilbert groused. “I am sure if we were there, Captain Lovelace would have announced it-”

“Actually,” she sang, “as you’ve been walking all this time, you’ve actually covered a decent amount of ground, and the bath in front of you has just stopped. The forest in front of you has abruptly changed from the leafy green woods you’ve found yourselves in, to a foggy, cool collection of odd fungi on the ground and swaying willow trees in dotting the landscape. And, as you all take notice in turn, your gaze is drawn upward to a great fortress that is only a short walk away, right in front of you. It looks to be made of an odd combination of stone and wood, that is held together by vines, foliage, flowers, and other... plant stuff. It’s basically got plants instead of cement. You take it this is the Smiling Ruin’s domain, and his tower is looming, slender and startlingly tall over the horizon.”

Eiffel giggled. “Gee. Maybe he’s compensating for something?”

**Author's Note:**

> uhh so this is my first fic that i'm posting! big thanks to the w359 discord (y'all know who you are ;)) . thought it would be fun to get the whole gang playing and working through their differences. not sure how many chapters it'll be, but hey we're just having fun times with the gang. title is a lyric from clemency for the wizard king by the mountain goats. here's hoping you enjoyed!


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